"Goddamn it ...where did I put it "
Shardu yelled...rummaging through his assortment of vials.
"It has to be here somewhere!!"
Things were turning for the worst ...It would not be long until whatever was triggered in Allen's body finishes him off...or progress to an irreversible state.
This had to be the worst time to trigger an awakening... not that it was something common: many would live and die without experiencing one themselves.
True to the situation, awakenings;bridge to shedding mundanity,would be triggered in times of great peril,resisting the grasp death, deep meditation and understanding of one's self or just naturally for those favoured by the heavens
Awakening is what sets apart elites from the mundane populace...the true begining and entry to what matters:
Power. Influence. Fame.
You name it
Yet still, the journey to power, from shedding the mundane, to ascending to the ever elusive sovereignity and divinity is long and full of peril. Not for the faint of heart.
***
On a workbench just on the left of where Allen was laid- an assortment of vials with weird glowing liquids within them, an arrangement of dried herbs and other items; too strange to be recognisable- Shardu was fumbling with beakers, crucible; an architecture of what is to come.
He had to prepare...be quick while doing so....in something that required utmost focus, not to mention the primal screams emanating from Allen that split his focus and made him shudder.
"Ahh, almost done ....hold on boy"
Shardu was in a hyper- pacing-focused state
"Crush the nightbloom and it with winterfrost essence, to stabilize"
"Ahh...This will really eat into my stock of special ingredients...Nightbloom, where can one find them anymore at this age and time !"
Little could be made out from his arcane rambling and cursing.
Some missing ingredients,he would have to loan from the Gray Codex's apothecary stockhold...That would have great prices to pay ...not to mention the rarity of the herbs.
Nevertheless...his hands were giving birth to artistic contrapion.
A quick run to the stockhold, cash in some favours ...owe some.
Shardu eventually got everything he required to prepare the serum.
He then quicky tossed himself back to Draemurgy(a branch of alchemy...specificaly on poisons, their antidotes and stabilizers)
His cadence and flow in his artistic practice would even rival grand draemurges and thaumaturges of Brelmurge consortium,after all, he had been one of them.
The potion was bubbling, just a little additions, adjustments and the serum would be ready.
***
Holding the hot beaker with tongs, Shardu added the last ingredient ...a stabiliser of some sort. Poured it into another to a cooling beaker, took a metalic syringe and sucked in the concoction.
"I have done all I can do ...next is up to you boy ...and your will to live"
Then held Allen down and drove the syringe down on Allen's chest .
The reaction was immediate.
The trashing,,twitching of limbs...the screams ...oh the screams: primal and untamed.
Muscles under Allen's skin twisted and coiled ...like an unwinding serpent.
Allen thrashed like a fish on a butcher's block, limbs jerking, wild and uncoordinated... like some macabre ritualistic dance.
Mucky ichor —thick, foul, and bubbling—gushed from every orifice: nose, mouth, ears, even weeping from his eyes like spoiled alchemical runoff.
The screams stopped ...no sound coming out...his vocal chords worn out and useless.
The visceral and macabre dance of Allen's organs still continued.
Shardu holding him down...pinning him on the stone slab.
***
As time progressed- seemed like a slow crawl and felt like eternity- things gradually calmed down now only an occasional twitch.
It had been hours.
" You are out of the worst part, boy ...persist ....don't give up yet" Shardu muttered ,relief washing down on him
The boy would survive.
***
Shardu had to prepare ,,,the boy would need nutricious food ...not the shit Gray Codex serves its members.
It had been days. Allen was still unconscious, but stable.
Things were not looking so bleak as before.
With the help of his alchemist friends, Shardu got everything he needed to expedite recovery;some loaned to be paid on a later date, some were old owed favours cashed in.
Shardu was deep in thought ...everything ongoing in that exact moment was background noise ... unecessary chatter....
"The boy has potential. He managed to survive this.
If only there could be someone to polish him,forge him to a weapon that he would come to be ..."
Staring at the peacefully sleeping Allen Shardu muttered
" You owe me one long goddamn explanation kid."
He'd burned through half his rarest stock, cashed his owed favours, owed three more favours- He didn't like owing nobody any favours ...rubbed him the wrong way- and likely had a month's worth of headaches ahead.
Still, Allen breathes, better be worth it.
With the current condition Allen's recovery would span weeks if not months, to return to peak condition.
With all this: the tension,the rush, the high stakes, Shardu couldn't help but reminisce of his past...his days of youth as a thaumaturge mentee in the Brelmurge consortium.
"Ohh, good were the days of old."
At least they were; for a while before things took a dip for the worse.
"Enough with all this" Shardu the gnome muttered , standing up and going about his business.
The memories opened wounds that were yet to heal... unpleasant memories he did not wish to relive. Not again.
Allen's plight went unnoticed,unmonitored...no eyes of significance on him ...at least not yet.
****
The Gray codex enclave was bustling with activity.
No, worse.
Unrest.
Whispers of secrets in the stone halls.
Pacts of blood made beneath stone.
Rumours of missing members ...some found dead; dismembered bodies.
There were signs—burnt offerings twisted into grotesque forms, chants etched in blood—subtle, but unmistakable sacrilege.
All this: undercurrents to a storm that is to come.